


Plain as Anyone Can See

by aurorstorm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorstorm/pseuds/aurorstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look, Regina,” Emma says with a sigh, “If I’m going to be living with you for the next week, you’d better start calling me Emma.”</p>
<p>“I’ll call you whatever I deem appropriate, Miss Swan.”</p>
<p>Emma would roll her eyes, but, you know.</p>
<p>[Emma is left temporarily blinded after a car accident with MM, and spends a week with Regina and Henry.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plain as Anyone Can See

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift for cabenson, as part of the Swan Queen Secret Santa over on the Swan Queen boards.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta Coleen (aposse) for her assistance early on, and to my friend who shall be called Pam, without whom this would never have been finished.

 

_But life's a slippery slope, regret's the steepest hill_

_Hope for the best, plan for the worst and maybe wind up somewhere_

_In the middle_

Bright Eyes, ‘Loose Leaves’

 

 

"You're ready to be discharged today," Emma hears Dr Whale say from the end of her bed, over the sound of a pen scribbling onto his clipboard.

Emma snorts in response to him. "Oh yeah. You're telling me as I sit here, freaking blindfolded. Totally ready to get back to work."

The most traumatic aspect of this goddamned accident for Emma has been the forced bonding time with Storybrooke's resident creepy physician. She doesn't need her vision to be able to tell when he leers at her, and besides, she's pretty much obligated to hate him out of loyalty to Mary Margaret.

"Don't be so dramatic; you're hardly blindfolded," he sighs. "I've told you. The bandages only have to stay on for a week. You should be thankful that the surgery was so successful." His voice drips with patronisation, which just makes Emma resent him even more.

"I get it, I'm taking up space in your precious hospital," Emma retorts. "But where the hell am I supposed to stay for a week? Not like I can exactly get around like this on my own."

"There's always Granny's," he suggests, and flips the clipboard shut.

"Granny runs a bed and breakfast, not a freaking rehab!" Emma shouts after him as he walks out of the room, leaving her alone and grumpier than ever.

Emma growls in frustration. She can't stop blaming herself for the stupid crash - because maybe she did take that corner a little too quickly - and its consequences. While Emma suffered only cuts and scrapes, and some minor damage to her eyes, Mary Margaret got the worse deal. A broken ankle and minor head trauma has sentenced her to a week of observation in the hospital, with a hell of a lot more recovery time. Which means that Emma doesn't have a roommate to come home to, and it's her fault, regardless of Mary Margaret's continued assurances that she doesn't blame her and that after all, the roads were pretty slippery that night.

The distant sound of youthful footfalls lifts her spirits, though. She is pondering the truth of the theory that the remaining four senses sharpen with the loss of a fifth, when Henry comes running into her room.

"They said you can come home today!" Henry says, and Emma can picture him bouncing up on his toes with boyish excitement. "Miss Blanchard can't, but you can!"

"Yeah, kid." She beckons for him to come closer so that she can ruffle his hair playfully. "But I can't go home without her, you see? I'm still blind and therefore useless."

Henry picks up her hand and squeezes it. "That's okay. You can come and stay with me."

"Oh no," Emma laughs, "that's really not a good idea. I don't think your mom would take too kindly to me having a week-long sleepover."

"So quick to assume the worst of me," comes a familiar drawl from the doorway, followed by the click of heels.

Oh. Well, that blew the super-human hearing theory right out the window, Emma thinks.

"Prove me wrong then." Emma glances around wildly, frustrated that she doesn't know where in the room to look. "As if you'd ever have me to stay."

"I'm not sure you have any other options," Regina replies, and steps closer. Emma's pretty sure that she's standing right behind Henry now. "You are notorious for your clumsiness, and I dread to think of having to find a suitable replacement for your position after you break your neck falling down Miss Blanchard's stairs."

Emma knows she is just teasing, but it's the playfulness and possible hint of kindness in Regina's tone that she convinces herself were figments of her imagination.

"Can Emma really stay with us?" Henry asks incredulously.

"Would you like her to, Henry?"

"Duh!"

"Then it's settled," Regina says. "Miss Swan, I'm sure a nurse will gather your things. Henry, could you go and find one?"

After he hurries out of the room, Emma says quietly, "You don't have to do this, Regina."

"Oh, I know," she replies, and follows her son out of the room, leaving a totally bewildered Emma Swan lying helplessly in bed.

 

 

Henry turns out to be the perfect gentleman; a testament to Regina’s strict parenting and emphasis on manners, surely. He carries Emma’s bag in one hand while leading her out of the hospital, his other hand clutched securely around her forearm.

Regina walks on her other side. She’s close enough to catch Emma if she falls; so close, in fact, that Emma gets shivers as if Regina’s sleeve is brushing against her bare arm - which it isn’t, of course. Regina isn’t really a touchy-feely kind of girl, Emma has observed, but personal space is another matter altogether.

Emma wonders if her current lack of vision will result in fewer occurrences of their little game she has privately nicknamed Personal Space Invaders, and chooses to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind which says, _I hope not._

 

 

“You’ll be in the guest room next to mine,” Henry says as he sits next to Emma in the back seat of the car. “You can share my bathroom too. I promise I’ll be tidy. And if you want, I can read to you. Or maybe we could listen to music. I wish we could play video games, but still, it’s going to be so much fun!”

Emma smiles at the excitement in his voice, wishing she could see the grin that would be lighting up his features. His hand is small and warm in hers, and even in her vulnerable state - whether Henry has this intention or not - Emma has never felt more secure.

Regina clears her throat as the Mercedes draws to a halt, presumably outside the Mayoral mansion. “Henry, be a good boy and help Miss Swan out of the car, will you?”

“Look, Regina,” Emma says with a sigh as Henry flings his own door open in the hurry to rush around and assist her. “If I’m going to be living with you for the next week, you’d better start calling me Emma.”

“I’ll call you whatever I deem appropriate, Miss Swan.”

Emma would roll her eyes, but, you know.

 

 

_“Are you sure you’ll be fine for the week? It’s just that I’m worried you and Regina will fight, being in such close proximity. You can handle it, I’m sure, but it’d be awful for Henry to witness.”_

“You’re allowed to be concerned for me, Mary Margaret,” Emma says into her phone. She thinks of Henry, currently sat against the wall on the floor of her room, flicking through the pages of a book. He’s so excited about the forthcoming week, and it would be wrong to tarnish that with a petty dispute with his mother. Besides, Emma is a guest here. She may not be as prim and proper as Regina, but even Emma is not that rude. “And I’m a big girl now,” she adds. “I know how to choose my battles.”

_“I know, I know. Sorry. I’m just going a little crazy cooped up in here alone.”_

“Again. My fault. I’m sorry.”

_“No! It isn’t, Emma! I didn’t mean that at all. Just come visit, okay? With Henry?”_

“Can and will do,” Emma promises her. “If Regina gives me a ride, that is.”

_Speak of the devil_ , Emma thinks as she hears the door open slowly, and Regina enters as if on cue.

“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Regina says. “I just thought I’d bring you something to eat. No matter how many budget increases I give them, the hospital food seems to remain unpalatable.”

Emma laughs and nods her agreement. “Gotta go, Mary Margaret.”

_“Of course. I’ll speak to you soon,”_ Mary Margaret replies in the nervous tone she always picks up around the Mayor - even over the phone, it seems.

Emma sets down the phone beside her and smiles towards the doorway - hopefully. “Thanks. That’s really thoughtful of you,” Emma says, but her voice is drowned out by Henry shouting, “Cinnamon scrolls?! AWESOME!”

Regina chuckles. “Not the most nutritious meal, I admit.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Perfectly fine.” In fact, Emma’s mouth is watering already. Seconds later, a warm pastry is being pressed into her palm.

“You know,” Emma says between mouthfuls, “I’m pretty glad I decided to stay here after all.”

“Me too, if it means I get food like this more often,” Henry adds.

Emma’s still got pretty good aim with her foot, it turns out, so Henry is sent sprawling dramatically onto the carpet, accompanied by another of Regina’s throaty laughs.

 

 

Emma wakes sometime after midnight, from a dream filled with twisted and distorted recollections of a past she’d rather forget. She jolts upright with a sharp intake of breath.

It’s far darker than it should be - where is the moonlight that should be shining through Mary Margaret’s curtains? She turns to check the time on her alarm clock, but there’s nothing but blackness there either. Sensing danger, Emma’s instincts tell her to get the hell out of there, so she makes a clumsy lunge for where she guesses is the edge of the bed.

She falls to the floor with a thump, bringing most of the bedding with her, and discovers that there is soft carpet where Mary Margaret’s aged floorboards should be. It’s when she tries to open her eyes one more time and finds them seemingly glued shut, that the panic begins to set in.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” she whimpers, tangling herself further in the sheets. “Help! Someone!”

Almost immediately, there is a shuffle of footsteps, and Emma hears her doorknob twist and turn back carefully, hears the well-oiled door glide almost imperceptibly over the carpet.

“Miss Swan? What’s the matter?” a voice that is unmistakably Regina’s whispers urgently, and the door is closed behind her. “You’re going to wake Henry with this racket!”

“What are you doing here?” Emma cries. “I don’t know where I am!”

“Oh,” Regina breathes, and Emma hears her move across the room towards the bed.

Emma stretches out an arm, and she finds herself clutching on to the unbelievably smooth skin of Regina’s forearm. The woman’s muscles tense momentarily under her grasp, before she lets out a small sigh. Emma finds it hard to reconcile the Regina she knows, all sharp edges and bristles and cutting words, with this warm, soft, sweet-smelling shape hovering above her.

“You’re in my house,” Regina explains, her voice more gentle now. “You hurt yourself, Miss Swan, and you were in the hospital, remember? And now you’re staying with Henry and I.”

Her voice is kind now; much kinder than Emma has ever heard it. Emma’s short-term memory is still as blank as her vision, but she finds herself believing Regina - for once.

“Why can’t I see? Am I blind? I’m scared, Regina.” Her lower lip is trembling, along with the rest of her body. She feels younger than Henry in this moment, defenceless and insecure, and her only salvation is the maternal comfort she knows Regina can offer.

“No, no, don’t be afraid.” The voice is even closer now, and Emma assumes that Regina has knelt in front of her by the rustle of her scattered bedding. “Shh. It’s okay, dear,” she says, and places a warm hand on Emma’s practically bare shoulder. “It’s only a bandage covering your eyes. You’ll be just fine.”

Emma swallows. “Promise?”

“Wh-what?” Regina stammers. “I mean, yes. I promise, Miss Swan. Now, let’s get you back in bed.”

Regina takes hold of her other shoulder too, and guides her up into the bed. She tucks all of the bedding back into its proper place, and Emma is reminded of that particular childhood luxury she longed for and was robbed of time and time again. In her over-tired state, she finds herself almost expecting a kiss on the forehead.

Instead, she receives a gentle stroke through the roots of her hair, so light and brief she nearly misses it - but Regina’s fingertips trailing along her hairline seem to leave sparks of energy in their wake. The following morning, though, she will convince herself that it was imagined.

“Thank you,” she calls after Regina as she senses the woman retreating. “I-I’m sorry. For panicking. This is really embarrassing.”

“No need to apologise," she replies, softly. "I understand.”

“Night, Regina.”

There's a pause in the door's gentle scraping against the carpet as it closes, followed by a whisper: “Goodnight, Emma."

 

 

A rapid knocking on the door is the next thing to wake her, but this time, she takes a deep breath and reminds herself of where she is. Tentatively, she fingers the edge of the bandage covering her eyes.

Once she is satisfied yet again that she hasn't really been blinded, she replies in a mumble. "Yeah?"

The door is swung open. "Hey Emma! Did you sleep well?" Henry's voice rings with that enthusiasm exclusive to children in the mornings. Give it a couple of years, Emma thinks, and he'll have to be dragged out of bed like every other teen.

"Yeah," she lies smoothly. "Slept real well. Is it breakfast time or something?"

"Mm. Mom sent me to help you down the stairs," Henry replies, oblivious to her fib. Clearly, Emma’s trademark superpower isn’t tied to genetics.

“Well, young man,” she says with a smile, “better use those strong muscles to help me outta bed first.”

 

 

“I hope you won’t be too bored,” Henry mumbles into Emma’s neck.

“I’ve got music, my phone, and sleep. What else could I ask for?” she jokes, patting him on the back.

Regina coughs gently. “All right, Henry. It’s time to get in the car.”

He withdraws with a sigh and then leaves, his footsteps down the stairs echoing throughout the mansion.

“I’ve arranged for Miss Lucas to bring you lunch at twelve-thirty,” Regina tells her, and Emma can sense the hesitancy in her words. “She’ll then stay with you until Henry gets home; every day this week, if you’d like.”

“Doesn’t Ruby have work to do with Granny?” Emma asks.

“It seems people in this town are quite willing to help you out, Miss Swan. You’re surprisingly popular,” Regina replies dryly. “Of course, I will be compensating her for any lost wages.”

“You’re...” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Never mind people being willing to help me out; you’re willing to _pay_ people to look after me?”

“It seems like the right thing to do.”

Emma is still pretty shocked. There’s got to be some sort of motive behind Regina’s generosity. She’s never been this kind; except to Henry on some occasions. “Well, thank you,” she says, surprise still colouring her tone. “I’ll be glad to have the company. And, uh... I’m really sorry. About last night,” she explains. “That was totally embarrassing; I don’t know what happened."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Regina says softly. “A bad dream, I assume?”

“Yeah.”

“I find that nightmares can do that - they can have the power to revert us back to a childlike state sometimes. Believe me, I understand.” After a pause, she continues. “Besides, you woke in a strange place without your vision. It's only natural that you should feel disoriented."

Her words sound like more than just those of a mother who has dealt with her son's bad dreams, which makes Emma curious. "Do you have nightmares, Regina?" she asks quietly, aware that the matter could be pretty sensitive and that she’s crossing into uncharted territory.

"Doesn't everyone?" Regina says, but her voice wavers slightly. This serves to give more credibility to Emma's theory that Regina wasn't acting simply from the goodness of her heart the night before. Perhaps Regina feels sympathy for Emma because she is haunted by her own demons and has felt the shame herself.

"Right," Emma agrees, because now is probably not the best time for a heart-to-heart with her son's famously difficult mother. "Have a good day, Regina."

"Don't do anything stupid," Regina warns her, before closing the door. Emma listens to her heels click down the hall almost wistfully.

 

 

“Emma, I don’t think you’re understanding me. _She baked for you._ ”

“Nope. Sorry,” Emma tells the girl who is perched on the end of her bed, through a mouthful of burger. “Not getting it.”

“It means she wants you!” Ruby cries, causing Emma to choke. “No woman stares at another woman like she does to you, and gets up in someone’s space like she does to you, and obsesses over someone like she does to you, and _invites someone into their home for a week and bakes for them like she has just done for you,_ unless they want to sleep with them.”

“Ruby, shut _up!_ ” Emma throws a handful of fries at her. “Regina does not want to sleep with me! God, she’s just trying to be civil, that’s all.”

“Totally civil? There hasn’t been a _hint_ of anything more? Besides the baking, which we have already established was practically a proposal.”

Emma hums, before smiling guiltily. “Well. I guess you’d probably be interested in the fact that she tucked me back into bed after I had a bad dream last night and woke up disoriented.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ruby says, and Emma feels her weight shift forward on the mattress. “Right?”

“I wish I was. It was totally mortifying. But - but she was just being friendly, wasn’t she?” Emma pleads.

“No way! It’s so much more than that, I swear. But she’s just too goddamn uptight to admit it. Which is kind of what makes the whole thing even hotter.”

“You’re crazy,” Emma says bluntly. “Absolutely nuts.”

Ruby laughs loudly. “Whatever. You’re in denial.”

“Just shut up before the kid comes home, okay?” Emma sighs, resigned. “And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ruby says, and squeezes Emma’s ankle. “Not even I would put you through the hell Regina would raise if she heard _those_ kinds of rumours.” She hesitates for a moment, and Emma can imagine the wicked grin spreading across painted red lips. “Although, that _would_ be...”

A well-aimed kick from Emma shuts her up soon enough, but they both dissolve into giggles. Emma will consider the implications of this conversation later. For now, she just wants to enjoy spending time with her friend.

 

 

Emma is trying valiantly to navigate Henry’s bathroom as she cleans her teeth that night, grappling with sinks and taps and glasses of water, when she hears Regina’s careful footsteps enter Henry’s room next door.

“Are you ready for bed, dear?” she strains to hear Regina say.

“Yeah,” comes the muffled reply. “But I borrowed a book from the library at school today. I thought maybe we could have... storytime.”

“Storytime? I’d—I’d love to, Henry, of course. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“I know. But, uh... Emma can listen too, right?”

“Oh,” Regina says after a pause; her disappointment is so blatantly obvious that Emma hears it from the bathroom, and guilt settles in the pit of her stomach as Regina shakily continues. “Well, I don’t see why not. Why don’t you go and tell Miss Swan, and I’ll take a moment to look over the book in here, hm?”

As Henry runs out of his room, Emma resumes brushing her teeth with a little too much enthusiasm and turns on the tap; if Regina cries to herself, all alone in that room and clutching that book to her chest like Emma can’t stop imagining, then the noise of the rushing water should drown it out.

 

 

“There was a boy called Odd,” Regina reads softly, “and there was nothing strange or unusual about that, not in that time or place. Odd meant _the tip of a blade_ , and it was a lucky name.”

Henry squirms eagerly against Emma’s side, and she feels his warm breath tickle her neck. The book he’s chosen for tonight is called _Odd and the Frost Giants_ , and Emma suspects his sudden, enthusiastic interest in Norse mythology has a lot to do with his equally enthusiastic interest in _The Avengers._ Over the next half an hour or so, they discover that Odin and his troublesome offspring are trapped in the form of animals, which earns a sleepy giggle from Henry, and brings a smile to Emma’s face as she imagines big, bear-like Hemsworth’s Thor as... well, as a _bear_.

Regina’s reading voice is gentle and soothing, yet animated enough to capture the spirit of the quirky cast of characters. It makes Emma almost feel _jealous_ of Henry for having this privilege for his entire childhood; as soon as Emma was old enough to read, she had no choice but to read to herself. This evening has served as another glimpse into Regina’s tender and maternal side, and Emma can’t shake the feeling that she is intruding in a very private moment.

Soon enough, Henry’s head slumps fully onto her shoulder and she hears his breath even out into a slow, steady rhythm. Regina must notice soon after, as she pauses in her reading and then gently closes the book.

“He’s asleep,” Emma says, and immediately feels a little stupid for pointing it out.

“I’d noticed.”

Emma gulps and asks, “So, uh... how are you going to move him?” and in the ensuing pause, she senses a sudden, tangible shift in the atmosphere between them. The room seems to rapidly lose its warmth, even though the small body pressed against her is practically radiating heat.

“Did you know, Miss Swan, that the last time Henry allowed me to read to him was when he was seven years old?” Regina begins slowly, and the deadliness in her tone has Emma shrinking under the covers. “At first, it was a matter of pride. He felt that he was too grown-up, and I accepted that. But not long afterwards, the opportunities for moments of intimacy between us became few and far between, and it was due to the fact that he simply didn’t like me anymore.”

“Regina, I—”

“Being able to read to him tonight was a great privilege to me. But I suppose, in the end, it was never about me at all. He wanted to share this story with _you_ , and if you were not currently... visually impaired, he would never have thought to ask me. Nevertheless, I agreed, just to be able to spend some time with him like I used to. And now that he has fallen asleep by your side, something I would cherish more than you will ever know, you ask me to take him away? I should hope you would appreciate such an... honour.”

Emma takes a deep breath, but speaks in a small voice. “Jesus, Regina, it doesn’t have to be this big of a deal, okay? I’m sorry that you don’t get to do this. I didn’t _ask_ him to fall asleep on me.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You never have to ask anything of him. You get all of his love without even trying.”

It’s impossible to ignore the way Regina’s voice cracks on those last words, and Emma has to swallow back a lump in her throat as she whispers, “I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to fix this for you.”

There is no response for a long minute, until Emma feels Regina’s weight leave the end of the bed. “Enjoy it, Miss Swan,” she hears finally, and it sounds like surrender. The satisfaction Emma once thought she would feel over a victory like this does not come. Instead, she merely notes with another pang of guilt that surrender doesn’t suit this fierce, stubborn and surprisingly human woman before her. “I’ll come and wake him in the morning,” Regina says, and then leaves the room almost silently.

Emma vows to try a little harder next time.

 

 

Breakfast the next morning is pretty awkward. Regina doesn’t say a word to her; their only interaction is when she practically _throws_ a bowl of cereal down in front of her, startling Emma when the china rings out noisily against the polished wood of the table.

“Thanks,” Emma mumbles, and Regina gives her the smallest of grunts in response.

Things are even a little stilted with Henry, who woke up oddly shy about having slept so close to her. He had scrambled away from her moments after Regina had woken him, and instead of his usual incessant chatter, he’s hardly spoken at all.

How Emma managed to piss off the entire Mills family by simply lying in bed she isn’t really sure, but she almost feels a little proud in the ridiculousness of it all.

It’s quite a relief when they both leave for work and school. Emma fumbles her way through a shower, which Regina – surprisingly and kindly – had left set up for her, with the doors to the bathroom and shower left open and towels set out on her bed. It takes her 20 minutes, but she manages to simultaneously not get herself killed and avoid getting water on her bandages. She’s not entirely sure that she put her tank top and leggings on the right way around, but Emma once answered the door to Regina Mills in nothing but her underwear so she isn’t really bothered by such trivial matters.

Ruby, the god-send that she is, comes by with grilled cheese, a muffin and a warm hug that Emma didn’t even realise she needed so desperately.

“Trouble in paradise, hey?” Ruby says, and then pulls away, giggling, before Emma can slap her.

“Don’t,” Emma groans, slumping back on the bed. “Somehow I managed to screw it up – whatever _it_ is – by doing absolutely nothing, and I still feel like it’s my fault. What the hell is with that?”

“Oh, Ems.” The mattress springs as Ruby flops down beside her. “She’s a difficult person. And, uh... terrifying.”

“Yep.”

“So don’t feel too bad. I’m surprised it took this long, honestly. You wanna talk about it?”

It’s been happening remarkably often since she came to this goddamn town, but yes, Emma _does_ want to talk about it. She recounts the events of last night to Ruby, who is a very patient listener, and then bites her lip, awaiting another sleazy comment from her friend.

But Ruby, like everything in Emma’s life lately, is full of surprises.

“What you need to do is provide some kind of opportunity for Regina to spend some quality time with Henry. It’s not just petty jealously she’s feeling. It’s more like... betrayal.”

“Oh, great, I feel _so_ much better now.”

“No, hear me out! Lately you two have been getting along better, yeah? And maybe Henry’s been nicer to her since you’ve been staying at the house. And then last night, she got a rude reminder that he keeps choosing you over her. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can nudge the kid in the right direction; he practically eats out of your hand.”

“But what do you think I should do? I can hardly just say, hey kid, go give your mom a hug and tell her you love her. Because it’ll just be forced, and she’s not an idiot.”

Ruby thinks this over for a few moments. “You didn’t finish the book, did you? And I doubt she’ll refuse him again. So if he falls asleep again tonight, why don’t you... ask her to stay too? That way she gets to be with Henry the same way you do.”

“Hold on, Rubes,” Emma says, folding her arms across her chest as butterflies leap in her stomach at the thought. “You want me to ask Regina to sleep in my bed? With me? I’m not stupid, I know what you’re getting at.”

“You know, _that_ implication hadn’t even occurred to me, but it _did_ occur to you, so...”

Emma pulls the pillow out from under her head and proceeds to whack Ruby with it until they both dissolve into laughter.

 

 

That night, when Henry begins snoring softly against Emma’s neck, she mentally prepares herself for what she’s about to do. She contemplates a million dramatic, murderous ways this night could end, and is mildly comforted by the knowledge that her blood would be on Ruby’s hands.

“I suppose you’ll want me to move him again,” Regina says through gritted teeth.

Emma steels herself. “Actually, no—”

“Well then, my presence is no longer necessary.”

Emma hears Regina get up to leave and hurriedly calls after her, “No, wait,” struggling to keep her voice low so as not to wake Henry. There is a moment of silence during which Emma holds her breath, until she hears Regina’s slipper-clad foot tap impatiently against the carpet, waiting for further explanation without deigning to ask.

“Uh,” Emma begins weakly, “I was thinking that—well, it’s not really fair that you do all the hard work reading and I get the... reward, right?”

“Go on,” Regina says quietly, but it feels like a threat.

“So... whydon’tyousleepinherewithustoo,” Emma fumbles, her words expelled in one long-held breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Um. I said, maybe you could... sleep here, with Henry. If you really wanted to. I mean, there’s a lot of room in this bed, and I know that you miss this....” Emma clears her throat. “He wouldn’t mind. I don’t mind either. You know, whatever.”

“You’re asking me to sleep in that bed with you and my son?”

“God, I guess you’re right—it’s kinda weird, isn’t it? Forget I ever asked; it’s cool.” Emma feels herself blushing furiously and bites her lip to prevent herself from any further embarrassment.

“As much as it irks me that you’re taking pity on me, your offer is not... entirely offensive,” Regina says carefully.

“...It isn’t?”

“No. And I suppose it would make it easier to wake him up in the morning and help you downstairs.”

“Gee, aren’t you just full of reasons to climb into bed with me.”

“Be quiet, Miss Swan.”

Emma chuckles, and the butterflies in her stomach begin to settle. After the coldness of today, thing are returning to their rightful order. They’re teasing each other, flirting, testing the boundaries—just as they should be. Even over such a short break, Emma had missed it sorely.

“So you’ll stay?”

“Yes,” Regina confirms. “But only for Henry. Don’t go getting any ideas, Swan.”

As Regina leaves to get changed into her sleepwear, Emma can’t wipe the stupid grin off her face.

A few minutes later, Regina returns to the bedroom, and Emma curses the stupid bandages that prevent her from seeing how Regina looks right now. She imagines Regina all soft and scrubbed clean, wearing silky blue pyjamas, or perhaps even a nightgown – is it brief? Emma wonders - chilled bare feet, toes curling into the carpet as she hesitates beside the bed...

Emma catches herself as her thoughts cross into dangerous territory, especially with her son sleeping innocently by her side.

“Just get in already,” she says gruffly, and listens to Regina’s feet pad around to the other side of the bed. The blankets shift as Regina lifts them to crawl under, and she settles far enough away that the mattress hardly sinks but close enough that Emma can pick up her scent: pressed linen, lavender – perhaps a night cream, Emma thinks – and unsurprisingly, apples.

Emma senses Regina lean over and hears her press a kiss to Henry’s forehead, who grunts softly but does not wake. “Thank you,” Regina then whispers to Emma, and for a brief moment, she rests her fingers on Emma’s bare shoulder, stroking the sensitive skin just underneath her collarbone.

“It’s nothing,” Emma practically squeaks, but she’s lying. As Regina resettles herself under the covers, Emma’s heart races and she worries for a moment that Regina can hear it.

It isn’t nothing; not at all. It’s everything.

 

 

When Emma wakes, she is curled on her side against Henry, but there is a warm hand clasped in hers that is decidedly _not_ Henry’s. As if on cue, the alarm on Regina’s phone starts beeping and the hand around hers clenches, loosens and then is ripped away.

Emma would _kill_ to be able to see Regina’s face right now.

Henry yawns and stretches against her, and then freezes. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

“I, uh—I was just—”

It’s almost amusing to hear Regina at a loss for words, but Emma mostly just feels bad for her, so she answers Henry instead. “Kid, your mom was doing a pretty stellar job of reading to us. So I thought it would be kinda mean if we didn’t ask her to join our little... sleepover.”

“Oh. I guess that’s cool.” Henry sits up, and Emma senses the tension in the room melt away again. “Can we go and get breakfast now?”

 

 

“ _Please_ hold still. You’re worse than Henry.”

Emma huffs impatiently. “Can’t you just pull it off quickly? Like a bandaid?” she says, and then almost _feels_ the eye-roll Regina gives her.

“I’m not going to tear a bandage off your eyes with that much force, Emma. Whatever you might think, permanently destroying your eyesight isn’t actually at the top of my agenda.”

“ _Emma?_ ”

Regina’s hands freeze momentarily at the edges of the bandage, her fingers tickling the skin at Emma’s temples. “Well, it is your name, isn’t it?”

“Never mind,” Emma murmurs, grinning coyly, but that smile is quickly transformed into a grimace as Regina begins to pull off the bandages at a torturously slow pace. “Goddamnit,” she growls.

Regina clicks her tongue. “Mind your language. You would do well to remember I’m sacrificing my lunch break for this.”

“Whatever,” Emma replies, then winces again until the last corner tears away from her face.

“Don’t open your eyes,” Regina reminds her, so she sits patiently on the edge of the bed, seeing nothing but a red glow through her eyelids. Next, a damp cloth is being swiped over and around her eyes as Regina gently scrubs away three days’ worth of grime from under the bandages.

“You’re so good at this stuff. Henry’s a really lucky kid,” Emma says.

Regina hums in agreement. “So you don’t see me as a monster anymore?”

“Of course not,” Emma says, forcefully enough that Regina will hopefully believe her. “I never really did, anyway. You were just... infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly attractive?”

This kind of banter is rapidly becoming Emma’s favourite pastime, and her heart begins to race again. Who knew flirting with Regina Mills would be so... _fun?_ “I guess that was part of it,” she says with a smirk, as Regina places the fresh bandage over her eyes and begins to gently stick it down.

“Well, if we’re being completely honest,” Regina says, thumbs smoothing the bandage over Emma’s cheekbones, “I suppose that I find you... tolerable, as of late.”

“Tolerable? That’s good. I can work with that,” Emma breathes, and God, Regina’s face is so close, and her breath is all minty and sweet, and her hands are still resting on Emma’s cheeks, and...

Emma leans forward those final few inches, and with perfect aim, brushes her lips lightly against Regina’s. Her blood is pounding in her ears, and for a second it feels like Regina is kissing her back before she pulls sharply away and pushes Emma back by the shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Regina hisses, and Emma’s heart sinks down into her stomach. _Stupid, stupid. Of course she never wanted you_ , Emma thinks, and her hands begin to tremble violently.

“Oh, shit,” she says in response, bringing her knees to her chest and curling into a ball. “Oh my god. I’m sorry.”

Regina snaps, “That was... _highly_ inappropriate, Miss Swan,” but her voice shakes, and it comforts Emma slightly to know that at least she’s not the only person in the room who has lost their composure.

“I know. God, I just thought we—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I swear it won’t happen again, I’ll leave right now, I promise—”

“I’ll pack your things,” Regina mutters, cutting her off. “Miss Lucas will come and pick you up.”

“Thank you,” Emma says weakly. She hears her duffel bag scrape against the carpet as Regina snatches it up and makes quick work of tossing all of Emma’s clothing inside it.

It isn’t until she hears the front door slam two minutes later that Emma finally lets herself cry, hands balling into fists against her forehead and salty tears soaking through her freshly applied bandages.

 

 

“I can’t face her again, Ruby. Not after being rejected like that. It was so humiliating. As soon as Dr Whale lets make take these stupid bandages off, I’ll just—go back to Boston again. This kind of crap never happened to me there.”

Ruby cries out in exasperation. “Because you never _had_ anyone there, Emma! You’re overreacting, seriously. You’d leave town – leave your friends and your job and your _son_ – just because you kissed Regina and it didn’t go so well?”

“It’s not that simple!” Emma wishes this bed would open up and swallow her whole, letting her escape from this interrogation, but she hasn’t got the heart to just ask Ruby to leave her alone. Instead, she takes a moment to search for the words to explain. “It was finally working, you know?” she offers quietly. “We were getting along and Henry was happy, and she was just trying to do something nice for me when I had to go and screw it all up. I screw everything up. I’m just one stupid, colossal screw up.”

“Please, Emma. Don’t talk like that. You know what? I’m calling Mary Margaret.”

“No! Don’t do that!” Emma lunges at her, uselessly grabbing for a phone she can’t even see. Moments later, Mary Margaret’s “ _Hello?_ ” comes through on speakerphone.

“Hi Mary Margaret, it’s Ruby. I’m with Emma, who is crying and hating herself and planning on leaving town because she kissed Regina and then they both freaked out and she won’t listen to me so please help?”

_“Um. What?!”_

“You heard me.”

_“Well, yes, but... Emma? Is all of that true?”_

“I guess,” Emma grudgingly replies after a less-than-gentle nudge from Ruby.

_“But—why would you want to leave town over this? It isn’t as if you’ve never fought with her before.”_

“I’m just tired of screwing everything up,” she repeats morosely.

_“Oh, Emma. You don’t. You have brought so much happiness into my life, and the lives of so many others, since you came to this town. And from what you’ve been telling Ruby”_ —Emma gives Ruby the finger as she laughs from the other end of the bed— _“it seems like, after a rocky start, you were starting to do the same for Regina. You_ fixed _things. And they’re not broken just because of this. You’re both adults and you’ll work through it. Maybe the two of you will never get together, or maybe you will. But by wanting to leave... well, you’re being a bit rash, aren’t you?”_

“I just—I’m too embarrassed to even talk to her again.”

_“Emma, I’m sure I’ve told you before that you can’t just run away from all your problems. You have to face her eventually.”_

“I know, I know. You’re right,” Emma admits. “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess.”

“Emma, we’re your friends,” Ruby says, and squeezes her knee. “It’s our job to be there for you when things get crappy.”

_“Now get some rest, Emma. It’s been a big day.”_

“You’re not my mom,” Emma teases, smiling again for the first time since _it_ happened.

_“Sometimes I feel like it, you know,”_ Mary Margaret sighs. _“Maybe Henry has a point.”_

 

 

**Text message received 6.21pm from Regina Mills:** _Emma why did you leave!! Did mom do something bad text me back now love Henry!!_

**Text message sent 6.25pm to Regina Mills:** _Hey kid its alright nothing bad! It was just 2 hard 4 your mom to look after me when she is so busy so im at grannys now dont worry will see you soon love Emma ps. dont steal your moms phone_

 

 

“Emma? I have someone here for you,” Ruby announces, knocking on Emma’s door sometime the next morning. “It’s Regina,” she then hisses, without even a hint of subtlety. “Can I let her in?”

Well, it’s not as if things can get any _worse_ , Emma thinks, so she grunts “If you must,” and shuffles back on the bed until she is curled up in a ball by the pillow. The door opens and closes quickly, and then there is a soft thud which Emma suspects is Regina leaning back against the door.

Emma isn’t sure what to say, so she begins with something safe. “I’m sorry, seriously,” she says for what feels like the hundredth time, and it sounds like a plea. “I can’t apologise enough—”

“Yes, you can, and you have, so please be quiet.”

“Oh,” Emma says. _That_ is not what she expected. “Do you—do you want me to leave town, or something? Is that why you’re here?”

“What? No, dear.”

“Oh,” she says again. She hears heels click on the floor, and then the springs in the old mattress groan as Regina sits down on the end of the bed. Emma tells herself that this must be a good sign, because it’s the kind of behaviour she would expect of the Regina she’s come to know in the last few days, rather than bossy and bitchy Madam Mayor.

“Would you really leave, if I asked you to?” Regina asks quietly.

It seems like a test of some kind, so Emma takes the time to think over her answer. “Maybe,” she settles on. “I mean, I don’t want to, but if I’ve totally messed up any chance of us getting along then maybe it’s for the best, you know, for Henry, and... but I swear, it’ll never happen again, it was a stupid mistake and—”

Regina cuts her off with a murmured “Shut up, Swan,” before gripping Emma’s upper arms and pulling her in for a kiss, stunning Emma so completely that it takes her a full three seconds to get herself together and kiss Regina back.

When they break for air, Emma laughs breathlessly and says, “I thought you didn’t—I mean—you wanted it to happen again?”

“Perhaps I enjoyed it a little more than I let on, initially...”

“Are you serious? Goddamnit, Regina!” Emma folds her arms across her chest, and hopes that she looks at least _somewhat_ pissed off on the portion of her face that’s uncovered. “You’ve had me going crazy for like, 24 hours now! What the hell?”

“You caught me by surprise, Emma. It was... confronting. A wake up call,” Regina explains calmly, while running her fingers up and down Emma’s arm, leaving goosebumps all over her skin. “And on top of that... I needed to know that you were serious about this, that it wasn’t just something spur of the moment. But when I pushed you away, you weren’t upset because you’d been rejected, but instead because you thought you’d upset _me_ and ruined our... relationship. So much so that you wanted to _leave_ so you wouldn’t cause me any more trouble.” Regina snorts. “Stupid, of course, and pathetically noble, but... sweet.”

“I am actually going to slaughter Ruby,” Emma groans. “Exactly how much did she tell you?”

“Enough,” Regina replies, and Emma can imagine the smug grin on her face.

“So, uh—what now?” Emma asks shyly, shifting a little closer to Regina on the bed.

“Will you come back?”

“Yes,” Emma answers without hesitation. “I’d love to.”

Almost immediately, Emma feels Regina’s weight leave the bed as the other woman once again proceeds to pack up Emma’s belongings. While Regina strides around the room in her typical stiletto heels, Emma builds up the nerve to add, “And then maybe I can kiss you again... if it’s not too much trouble.”

Regina laughs warmly, and takes Emma’s hand in hers to lead her safely out of the room. “I’ll have to check my schedule,” she drawls.

As they make their way carefully down the stairs, a loud cheer sounds from the ground floor. Ruby dashes noisily up the remaining steps and throws her arms around both of them, and then runs back down again shouting, “Gotta get back to work!”

“That girl is pure chaos,” Regina mutters, and Emma sighs her agreement. “But I suppose we owe her some very generous tips from now on.”

Emma slips her arm around Regina’s waist as they head outside to the car. Regina tenses briefly, aware that they’re now outside the safety of the bed and breakfast, but Emma reassures her with a squeeze and a whisper of, “It’s alright. You’re just helping an invalid. Think of the good publicity.”

“But what about when your bandages come off? What then?”

“We’ll work it out.” They come to a halt; Emma hears the car door open and Regina shrugs out of her embrace to help her into the car. Once seated, Emma lets Regina buckle her in then grabs hold of the hand still resting on the seatbelt, rubbing her thumb in soothing circles on Regina’s palm. “One step at a time,” she tells her. It’s how they got this far, after all, and Emma knows they will go so much further, even if they need a little outside guidance every now and then to keep them travelling in the right direction.

This accident, like many of Emma’s mistakes, has turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If only she could figure out how to make good things happen on _purpose_ , Emma could guarantee herself a very simple life. For now, though, she’s pretty content with these pleasant surprises; happiest, of course, with the beautiful mystery of a woman by her side, who is bringing her safely back home.


End file.
